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[dirtyrottensocialist]

Wife and I were talking about this this morning and how everything just defaults toward liking men, because patriarchy I guess. Oh you're a straight man that looked at a flower too long? Gay. Gay man says he's gay? Believed. Bi man says he's bi? Gay. Bi girl says she's bi? Straight. Lesbian says she's a lesbian? Oh she's bi. Can we all just fucking believe people when they tell you what they are please? This is not difficult.

For the record, I'm a bisexual cis woman married to a transgender lesbian. I'm not less bi because I only dated men before her. She's not less lesbian because she didn't transition before being in a relationship with me.

When a lesbian artist is like boldly lesbian and everyone is like 'omg bi icon, wait maybe she not REALLY a lesbian she sang about a boy a few times' I'm just... world explosion. Chappell Roan and Renée Rapp are lesbians and y'all are just gonna have to cope

[dirtyrottensocialist]

SHATTERED PARAGON   “Amy Ward lives in a world surrounded by strength. A world of superheroes. A world where she doesn’t know her place. Overshadowed and unappreciated, what she craves more than anything else is love and acceptance, but she finds herself incapable of reaching out for it. With a soul drowning in darkness and despair, only the light of the sun can remind her what joy feels like, and the one she finds shines bright even in such a gloomy city as Seattle. The only question is whether she’ll find the bravery it takes to reach out for a chance at happiness with her cheerful heroine, or wallow in misery and loneliness forever.”

Let’s get the obvious out of the way first. Yes, the person who wrote this is my best friend and I’ve been following the development of this book for months now and I’m completely in love with it. I love the worldbuilding and the general theme which is one of hope, love and finding your place in the world.  If you love superheroes, especially anti-authoritarian ones, if you love a diverse cast of queer characters, and most importantly if you think you would like the sweetest slow-ish burn sapphic romance I’ve ever read then this is your book. CW: This book does contain elements of sexual assault, abuse, neglect and graphic violence.    

[dirtyrottensocialist]

Vaccines: the Bodily Autonomy Argument

My body, my choice. A slogan often touted in pro-choice arguments, now co-opted by anti-vaxxers as an argument against required vaccinations, seemingly as a “gotcha” to the liberal and left proponents of vaccines. A “what now libtards! aren’t you all supposed to be in favor of having absolute control over your own body?” Let’s deconstruct this a bit.

Bodily autonomy is an incredibly important concept. It states that your body is yours and yours alone. No one can touch you, use your body, force you to carry pregnancy to term, etc. without your consent. The trauma caused by having your body used without your consent is very real and very damaging, so it’s important to acknowledge that bodily autonomy is indeed a human right, but within reason. I have every right to drink myself into oblivion, beat myself up, stand on my head, run around until I puke, whatever other damaging thing I want to do to my own body because it’s my own. That right stops when what I want to do with my body endangers other people in society. 

This is where pro-lifers will jump in with “a-ha! so you admit that your right to bodily autonomy doesn’t include pregnancy” and no, that’s not correct. You don’t get to tell me that a fetus is a person. Your religion may tell you that, but maybe mine doesn’t. I have as much freedom of religion as you do. So I am referring to people who have already been born, those who have legal personhood by issuance of a birth certificate. Any debate beyond that is a different argument for a different time.

Moving on, I cannot decide to drive drunk because of bodily autonomy. My right to do what I want with my body ends there, because it puts others in danger. I can’t yell “fire” in a crowded theater. I can’t swing my fists wildly while surrounded by people. There are rules we must follow in society to keep people safe. There are also things I can only do in certain situations. I can perform CPR, but only on an unconscious person who appears to need it, and because I’m CPR certified. I can travel to another country, but only if I have a passport and am not carrying any weapons. I can drive a car, but only if I have a valid license. If I don’t want to do any of these prerequisites, I can choose not to perform those acts.

Hopefully it’s fairly obvious where I’m going with this. There are lot’s of things that you can’t do with your body without first doing something to insure that other people are not put in danger by it. It just so happens that during a global pandemic, being around large groups of people without being vaccinated and/or masked puts them in danger, and can therefore become a restricted activity. Want to work in a school? You can do that, if you get vaccinated. Want to go to a concert? You can do that, if you get vaccinated. Want to keep your job that makes you interact with the public regularly? You can, if you get vaccinated. If you’d rather not get vaccinated, you can make that choice, but you then fail to meet the requirements to be a full participant in society. Those are the consequences of your choices. Throwing a fit about it won’t make it less dangerous. Keeping people safe must be the #1 priority. Yes, sometimes personal freedoms have to be sacrificed for this. You’ve been doing it your whole life already, this is just one more thing.

Furthermore, since this particular group of people seem to think that their right not to get a shot or two outweighs the unalienable right to life of hundreds of thousands of others, I’ve come to the conclusion that the only way past this will be to make them required everywhere. Want to go somewhere other than your house? Proof of vax required. Gain your freedom through a shot. Those of us who have been acting selflessly throughout this past year and a half are so far beyond exhausted with the lies and outright vitriol of those who hold personal freedoms above all else. Healthcare workers have been pushed to the edge once again with this variant. Countless people on hospitalized are begging their loved ones to get the shot, and still we have protests and rallies and disinformation everywhere. It’s clear that rational argument has failed. I and many others are simply out of patience. It’s time to make it mandatory.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

We Can Do Better

There are a lot of very well-meaning people that simply don't have the proper tools to be good allies for the LGBTQ+ community, and in particular, the transgender community. I'm going to attempt to answer some common questions, clear up some misconceptions, and illustrate some ways we can do better by our trans siblings. It should be noted that I am a cisgender woman, but I am very involved in the online trans community and, as most of you probably know, my wife is a transgender woman (who will be proofreading this for me).

Here are some common misconceptions, and how to change your thinking. A common thought is that transgender people are "born" one gender and at some point "become" another (i.e. born a boy and then became a girl). While this can be the case for some people, to say it is a universal experience is inaccurate and uncommon. More often transgender people are assigned a gender at birth based on the outer presentation of their genitals. Subsequently, they are denied their own gender experience until they can no longer stand to be anyone but who they really are. They are raised in a society that ties everything they do to a role they were assigned without their input or consent, and are often slowly traumatized by the denial of their true self, for YEARS and often decades. It is no wonder, then, that transgender people suffer high rates of suicide, particularly when they are denied access to transition and support.

I've heard many cisgender people attempt to relate to and empathize with transgender people by trying to imagine what it would be like to become the opposite gender. It seems to me a better exercise would be to think of yourself exactly how you feel today: who you are, how you relate to masculinity and femininity and gender as a whole. Then imagine that your whole life, everyone told you that you were someone else, that you shouldn't be who you are, that it's sick and wrong to be yourself.

Another common way that cisgender people attempt to be supportive is to say things like, "I don't care what anyone wears, do what makes you happy." And that really misses the point and directs the attention to the clothing rather than the experience. Transgender women are not men in dresses. They are women. Transgender men aren't women with short hair and baggy clothes. They are men. It is the core of who they are, not a costume to be worn. (Related note: "Oh I love Ru Paul's Drag Race!" is NOT the supportive statement you think it is.)

Okay. This is an exhausting one. While trying to take an interest in a transgender person, a cisgender person inevitably asks about surgery. I'm going to put this in a way you can hopefully all relate to. Do your other friends ask you about the presentation of your genitals? Do my friends ask me how my vulva are looking today? Do you go up to your boss or co-worker and ask about his dick? No? That's because another person's genitals are none of your god damned business! This is still true when talking to a trans person. Mind your own business and don't ask. They will tell you if they want you to know. (Note: this also translates to bathrooms, we don't peek over stalls to look at other people's genitals, so it doesn't matter what equipment is peeing into the toilet in the stall next to you)

I'll leave you with this. Transgender people are exhausted from trying to exist in a world that is full of people who want to make their lives harder. They don't want to have to explain all of this to everyone they come across. Respecting names and pronouns is very important, but there is so much more to being a good ally than remembering to say "she" when referring to someone. It means truly treating that person like themselves. It means acknowledging their true gender in ways that transcend formalities. It means standing up to bigots when they make transphobic jokes. It means refusing to support businesses that don't accept people for who they intrinsically are and being LOUD about the reason you are withdrawing your support. It is our job as cisgender people to use our place of privilege to make this world safer for our trans siblings. And it is our duty as members of society to do our part to remove some of the burden that society puts on them. They do not owe the world an explanation. We owe them safety, acceptance, and allyship.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

What A #(*$ing Mess

You’re trying to lose, right? Right, DNC? In the midst of the largest protest against police brutality and mass incarceration that our nation has ever seen, you’ve chosen the author of the 1994 crime bill and supporter of the Patriot Act as your main guy, and you let him pick an actual cop as his VP candidate. How much more obviously tone deaf can you be?

The Democratic party is outrageously out of touch with it’s voter base and is in very grave danger of completely losing the left vote. What reason could you possibly have for not including something that 88% (yes you read that right) of your voter base is in favor of (Medicare for All)? The only explanation is health insurance lobbyists. The only explanation is that they don’t work for us anymore, if they ever did to begin with.

Meanwhile, Donald Trump is dismantling the most popular government service in America to try to steal the election from the least formidable opponent the DNC could come up with. THIS is the shit we have to choose from? An old senile racist rapist who’s in it for the money or an old senile racist rapist who’s in it for the money? No wonder my generation feels left behind. What a $*&#ing mess!

At this point, I truly don’t know what would be worse for our country in the long run: a blatant fascist who throws us headlong into revolution, or a subtle fascist that lulls us back into complacency. Incremental change has not worked in my lifetime. I have not seen a time of prosperity for America’s working class. Not during Obama, not during W, not during Clinton, not during HW, and certainly not during Trump. We still have a huge number of people who can’t pay their rent this month. We still have mountains of student loan debt. We still have people who go bankrupt from a cancer diagnosis. We still have people working 3 minimum wage jobs to try to feed their families. We still have no guaranteed sick leave or family leave or vacation time (things that almost all other developed countries have an abundance of). People my age have been voting for the “lesser evil” our whole lives, and what has it gotten us? No substantial change. Markedly worse and worse outcomes year by year.

If you choose to vote for Joe Biden because you truly believe he will be better than Trump, I hold nothing against you, especially if you live in a swing state. It’s easy to look at Trump and think that anything else would be better. If you have read this blog in the past, you probably know I’m a sexual assault survivor. It makes me sick to my stomach to know that after four years of having a rapist as a president, I will be stuck with four more no matter the outcome of the election. As such, I will NOT be voting for either major party candidate in the 2020 presidential race. I physically can’t make myself do it. But worry not, blue wave. I live in the bluest state in the union. My vote never mattered in a winner-take-all delegate state anyway. 

I will be voting for Howie Hawkins, the Green Party candidate. His platform is nearly identical to my policy positions, while Biden’s plan (and the DNC platform) bears no resemblance at all. If I can help get the Green Party to 5% nation wide, they get federal funding next election. There could be a viable third option, which, I believe, is now the only thing that can save electoral politics in this country. 2020 has made me rather cynical and I’m done playing the two party game. It’s time for BIG change in this nation, change that will help the working class and the marginalized. Because what we have at this point is nothing more than a huge $*#@ing mess.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

America Has A Compromise Problem

Compromising is important, especially if you want to get anything done. Like any give and take situation, the deal has to be appealing to both sides. This can be difficult enough when the two sides are somewhat close together already, but what if they aren’t? What if one side wants something that is indisputably harmful to the other side? America’s compromises as of late aren’t really compromises at all.

I’m going to talk for a moment about the Overton window. From Wikipedia: “The Overton window is the range of policies politically acceptable to the mainstream population at a given time. It is also known as the window of discourse.” America’s current Overton window, at least when you watch any kind of news or professionally published widespread media, is somewhere between Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump. That’s what the media covers, it’s what is discussed as acceptable in many circles, and it is vastly different from most other developed countries.

The idea that universal healthcare is a “far left” idea is absolutely laughable in places like Denmark or Germany or New Zealand. It’s even laughable for many members of America’s younger generations. America’s hyper-capitalistic ideals have pushed the Overton window so far right that it’s considered “centrist” to think that antifa (the position of being against fascism - you know, the thing that Nazis did) is just as bad as being a Nazi. Basically someone is saying “we should kill all the Jews,” someone else is saying, “actually we should not kill any Jews” and the centrist says “wait, wait, wait, what if we compromise and only kill some of the Jews?” as if that’s an acceptable answer.

Media in America is largely owned by corporations. As such, the owners of most of these media outlets are actively invested in making sure the Overton window in America never skews far enough left so that they will lose profits. The ultra rich control the narrative, not allowing for anything on the actual left to see the light of day for discussion. 

The reality is that there is a large portion of Americans, particularly in the Millennial and Gen Z ages, that are considerably to the left of the Overton window. You can see it in the protests that are happening all over America (and yes, they ARE still happening). These protests are largely led by young people who are tired of being dealt a bad hand by the economy, racism, climate change, exploitative healthcare, and many other systemic problems. Media has softened the demands to defund the police by saying, “no one actually wants to abolish police” even though that’s exactly what many people on the left want. There are real leftists living in your communities. Socialists. Anarchists. Communists. People who believe that the workers should own the means of production (no private companies). People who believe in all housing being free (eliminating landlords). People who believe money as a concept should not exist because it leads to haves and have-nots (only resource-based economy). People who believe there should be no president, no nations, completely open borders (as much as centrists will tell you that no one believes this, there are real people who whole-heartedly do believe in open borders). The growing left movement in America has grown very tired of agreeing to compromises that don’t actually do anything for their agendas or beliefs.

So now it comes to election season and we are faced with some serious choices. Decades of voting for the lesser evil has gotten us to this point. Skyrocketing unemployment, billionaires increasing their wealth by 50% profiting off of a pandemic, price gauging life saving drugs, a minimum wage that has been stagnant for more than a decade, college and housing costs pricing more and more people out of homes and education, not to mention a pandemic that threatens to be the deadliest disease we have ever seen because people are more concerned with making sure billionaires don’t lose money than making sure that everyone survives. America is a pit of despair right now. There are popular jokes about 2020 apocalypse bingo cards because of the increasing absurdity of circumstances in every passing month. 

But here we are. Election season. It’s shaping up to be a showdown between Joe Biden and Donald Trump. The Overton window tells us that Joe Biden is the obvious compromise candidate, somewhere between Sanders and Trump. But that alienates an entire large group of people and potential voters, mostly those under 40. Joe Biden, the man who crafted the 1994 crime bill is not an appealing compromise for those who want to abolish police. Joe Biden, the man who has been credibly accused of rape, is not an appealing compromise for those who have experienced sexual assault and become physically sick at the thought of another abuser (see Brett Kavanaugh) being put in a high position of power. Joe Biden, the man who has said he would veto Medicare for All if it came across his desk, is not an appealing compromise for those who have been rationing insulin trying to pay the bills, eat, and also afford life giving medicine. Joe Biden is not an appealing compromise for those of us for whom Bernie Sanders WAS the compromise.

For many people my age, the only America we have known is the America that does nothing but benefit the most wealthy. We have seen countless black Americans murdered by a violent state. We have seen thousands upon thousands of people declare bankruptcy due to medical bills, and many more die because they could not afford care. We have seen our country refuse to do anything meaningful about climate change because the government is essentially owned by oil companies and their lobbyists. We have seen and experienced a massive student debt crisis that is making it almost impossible to get ahead. We’ve attempted to mitigate these travesties by voting “blue,” for the lesser evil, for the person with slightly less terrible policies. We’re tired of compromises that don’t concede anything to us at all. We’re tired of electoral politics that force us to choose between Voldemort and Darth Sidious. For many leftists, Bernie Sanders was our last hope for electoral politics.

One of my favorite Democrats once said: “Those who make peaceful revolution impossible will make violent revolution inevitable.” I would advise the DNC to consider this heavily when selecting their platform this year. It’s time to try a compromise that’s actually in the middle of the electorate for a change. If we are unable to do this, the guillotine jokes may end up not being jokes anymore.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

An In-Depth, Too-Long, Somewhat Political Review of Venice

Many of you will know that my spouse and I recently went to Venice, Italy to celebrate our fifth anniversary. It's a place we had both wanted to go for a long time, and a dream come true for us to have been able to save the money for the trip. This review will take you on all the ups and downs of the travel, accommodations, touristy things, and quirky differences from America, sprinkled, of course, with important political commentary.

Day 1: We woke up at 5:30am PST to load the car, drop off the cat at my parents' house, and get to our airport parking. That presented our first issue of the day. When we arrived at the address where I had paid for parking at the exact time we had reserved, we found a sketchy looking parking lot at what looked like an auto repair shop that was gated and locked. I called the number on the reservation and there was no answer. I went back to the app where I had paid for the parking, touched the link to the address and it pointed up the road a bit. We went about half way there and the map app said it was back where we originally were. Called the number again and after several rings, it was finally answered. The man could barely speak English (I'm not exaggerating when I say that every single person IN ITALY that we interacted with spoke English more clearly). He had no idea what I was talking about and when I asked for clarification about something he said, he hung up on me. We were so mad.

At this point, I decided we would go into the first airport parking lot we saw. This was the best thing that happened all day. We pulled in to Jiffy Parking, got an automated ticket to leave on the dash, and found a parking place. Thirty seconds later, a shuttle arrived to take us to the airport, directly to our airline with one other family. Check in and baggage check at SeaTac was relatively painless. Our flight was easy to find and we boarded in a timely fashion. We had a nice flight crew and had chosen the part of the plane that has the most leg room. The flight went well and arrived slightly early to JFK, about 7:30pm EDT. That's when it all went wrong.

JFK Airport is just terrible. We stood in a HUGE line to get on a shuttle to go to a different terminal to catch our connection, causing us some anxiety, but we made it. For this flight, I had gone online and chosen seats by the window, where there are only two seats, so we would not have to be right next to any strangers. We were boarded and taxiing from the gate fairly quickly.

After quite a while of waiting, we were finally in the air. Everything seemed to be going well for the first hour and a half and we had made it over the far eastern reaches of Canadian land when suddenly, our flight tracker changed to say we were going back to New York. We thought it was a glitch for a couple minutes, but then the captain came over the speaker and told us about a problem. One of the two navigation screens was not working properly and he didn't feel comfortable taking us over the Atlantic with it not working. We were returning to JFK, but we had to burn off a bunch of fuel first in order to be a safe weight to land. So, over four hours after leaving JFK, here we were again.

After taking my phone off of airplane mode, I read the panicked texts from my mother and father who had been watching the flight tracker that suddenly lost data and had spent over an hour on hold with Delta trying to figure out what happened, only to receive no answers whatsoever. We were then told that the maintenance crew would be boarding and we'd hopefully be on our way again soon. About 10 minutes later, we were informed that the problem was completely fixed and we would be on our way again soon. That was a lie. A few minutes later, someone who sounded like he was about 12 told us that they did not have a backup flight crew to run our plane and the current flight crew would be over their alotted time if we left now. As a result, we would be rescheduled on a plane tomorrow afternoon. We were livid.

At this point we were directed to a Delta help desk at another gate and stood in a non-moving line for over an hour, being repeatedly told conflicting things by different Delta employees, AND being told that if we wanted our checked bags, we would have to wait about two hours for them. As a reminder, Delta is the company that infamously spent advertising money to convince their workers not to unionize, and instead to buy a video game console. Clearly they don't want their customer service employees communicating too much, and it definitely showed.

We had received emails saying that we had been re-booked on a flight that was going to leave at 4:10pm EDT on the 25th to Frankfurt on Lufthansa and catch another layover to Venice from there. About that same time, a Delta employee who looked rather in charge ensured all of us that we would be re-booked for the 5:00 non-stop and that we would all be on it in our same seats that we originally chose. Customers around us in line received the notification that they were rebooked on the new flight, but we did not. Also in this line, I sent an email to our hotel in Venice saying that we would not be arriving until the following morning. They were very understanding and got back to me, in English, before I had moved 10 feet in this line.

When we FINALLY reached the front of the line, we received hotel and taxi vouchers for the night. We expressed our concern about the flight discrepancy. The agent looked us up and said we were booked on the flight to Frankfurt. We told him what the other guy told us and he said "they must be rebooking you then" as if that was supposed to make us feel better. We were given a number to call for the taxi, but not at all told where to go to find it.

We found another Delta agent who gave us vague, incomplete directions about where to go to find the taxi dispatcher. We spent at least another half an hour wandering around asking any random employee where we were supposed to go and getting different answers everywhere. We called the taxi company and the guy told us to "Go upstairs and out door 1". If you've ever been to JFK, you know how maddeningly unhelpful that is when you don't know where you are to begin with. Finally we ran across the same guy that gave us our vouchers and asked him where the hell we were supposed to go. He walked us upstairs, around the corner, and out the DEPARTURES entrance to where more people were waiting for taxis. We called the guy again to ask about our taxi and he said they were probably sending a shuttle or bus since there were so many of us going to the same hotel.

After a little while longer, a car showed up and we elected to share it with two other ladies (a mother and daughter I think) who were on our flight and going to the same hotel. Our driver must have been the most incompetent driver in all of NYC. He looked at our vouchers like they had come from another planet and he had never seen words before. Asked us where to go and didn't know the place. The younger woman we were sharing the taxi with and I both looked up the address and told it to him several times. He stared at his own GPS like he had never seen an electronic device before for about 2 minutes while we repeatedly told him the address. Finally, the younger woman asked if she could enter it. He said yes and handed it to her. Within seconds, we were on our way.

His car was equipped with a beeping sound whenever he drifted over a line. I can't tell you how many times it beeped. When we finally arrived at the hotel, the people who had left JFK after us, had already arrived. The man at the Holiday Inn Express in Lynbrook was the most efficient and competent person I had spoken with all day. Asked us how many people and how many beds, handed us a key, told us what floor, and what time breakfast was. Thank God. At 4:45am EDT, we went to bed. Keep in mind, we had been up since 5:30am PDT. What. A Day!

Day 2: I had been tossing and turning all night, worrying about our flights and our baggage, so luckily, I was awake and looking at my phone on the night stand at 9:30am when it started quietly buzzing as I was getting a call from Delta. I answered it and went into the bathroom to talk. The lady said we were booked on the 4:10pm to Frankfurt with a connection to Venice. I told her what the in-charge-looking guy had told us the night before and she said "You must have been auto-booked by our system." I told her that other customers were too, but they had received notifications rectifying it. I asked why I was being put on another layover in a country I was not planning to go to when I paid for a non-stop flight. She said she could get us on the non-stop that everyone else was on and that she would also be sending both of us $100 check from Delta for our trouble. I asked her about our bags and she said we would have to check with baggage services when we got to the airport in case they had been rerouted to Frankfurt.

At this point we were both pretty awake and decided to just call the car service to get back to the airport with plenty of time to spare so we could deal with all of the baggage things. The car arrived and our jaws hit the floor. It was the SAME DRIVER as the night before. Luckily this time, he was going to JFK, which every single driver in NYC knows how to get to. We got there in one piece and found a Delta agent. For our bags, we were directed to "Baggage Services", which was past a security point that we were not supposed to go into, but the guy let us in since he could see the entrance from where he was.

Baggage services told us that our bags would automatically be loaded onto the replacement flight and were not scheduled to go to Germany. Thank goodness. We left to go print our new boarding passes. When we did this, it said we had zero checked bags, so we printed the passes and asked an agent at baggage check about it. She told us the same thing that baggage services said, so we were set to go. Now for JFK security, which was sort of long and annoying, but I've been through worse at that airport. So we found our gate, hung out, had food and drink, and got to the plane on time. We were boarded and put in the middle section, where we were seated next to a stranger and had no window view, which is not what we were told would happen. Thankfully, this trip went smoothly and we arrived in Venice at about 7:30am CEST.

Here, we got off the plane and immediately into a standing-only bus that took us to the terminal. Customs were unfathomably easy. We walked up to a window, handed both of our passports to the guy inside, he opened them, stamped them, and handed them back to us. We then went immediately to baggage claim and found our luggage right away. We got our bus passes from a kiosk and hopped on the bus out front to go to our hotel.

We had made it to Venice! Our bus ride went well and was thankfully fairly air-conditioned, because the weather outside was both hot and insanely humid. Some ticket enforcement guys got on, looked directly at me and said "Ticket?" in English. I don't know what gave me away, but it was apparently obvious to these guys that we were not from Italy. Might have been how much we glowed in the sun with our bleach white skin. Italians are very tan, apparently because they walk EVERYWHERE. We walked about 25 minutes from where the bus let us off at the Mestre train station to Hotel Roma in Marghera. We were soaked with sweat and absolutely exhausted from the travel, heat, and humidity by the time we got there. We walked inside and the man at the desk said "Buon Giorno." I responded with the same and asked "Parli Inglese?" He said he knew a little and I thought he spoke it very well.

We got checked in and directed up to our room. It was a little old fashioned, but very nice. It had a physical key for the door, but also attached to this key was a card that you had to put into a slot in the room in order for any power in the room to work. After fighting to figure out the air conditioner for a couple minutes, we called the front desk because we couldn't figure it out. The guy arrived in seconds and flipped the switch behind the bathroom door to turn it on. We each zipped through the shower as the old A/C unit slowly cooled the room and went straight to bed.

When we woke up, it was close to 6:00pm CEST, and we were very hungry. Just down the road was a pizzeria called Al Calesse, so we got ready and headed out into the humid heat, finally arriving around 7:30pm. This place was hopping, super busy (though I guess it was a Friday night). The waitress looked at us and said something in Italian. When we looked back at her, wide-eyed, she switched to English and told us to wait a moment. When she took us to our table, it was extremely close to the table next to it, so it could be used as two groups of two or a group of four. The people at the other half of this table were a father and son. We sat awkwardly for a moment and looked at the menu, which had a union jack on it, clearly indicating English translations. It was then that we realized the two people sitting next to us were speaking English as well. We got to talking to the father. He was from Canada, though he currently lives in the UK, which explained his son's British accent. They were very nice and we had a good chat learning about each other.

Just before the waitress came back to take our orders, I noticed something about the English translations on the menu. Peperoni was described as sliced red peppers. I immediately looked it up on my phone. Sure enough, in Italy, peperoni is a red pepper pizza. What Americans call pepperoni is actually sliced spicy salami, commonly called diavola in Italy. I'm so glad I discovered this before we ordered. The meal and dessert were absolutely delicious, and we continued to have a good time with the Canadian man and his son, though, if you're somehow reading this, Canadian friend, we tried Aperol spritz a few days later, and it's absolutely disgusting, how do you have taste buds and drink that stuff? Anyway, happy actual anniversary to us that evening. We went back to the hotel room for the night, since we knew nothing would be open at that point and didn't want to deal with the night bus schedule. We attempted to nap a bit, but it didn't really work that well.

Day 3: I went down to breakfast in the morning and had delicious authentic Italian cappuccino, which was included in our hotel breakfast. We then got ready and headed out for the supermarket, which didn't open until 8:30am, and there is no such thing as a convenience store in Italy, it would seem. We were mostly in search of bottled water, which we found, but they have none of the same brands as America, which as we found out, does make a significant difference. People of Italy, what in the world do you do to your bottled water? Do you not filter it enough? Does it come from somewhere weird? It just plain doesn't taste good, and is somehow not as thirst quenching as American water, even when served ice cold. I really don't get it. We tried several brands of bottled water in Italy and they were all gross.

Anyway, we slept a little bit and got up around 11:00am to head into actual Venezia. We caught the bus and headed that way in the humid heat. There is one road in and out of Venezia, and once you get there, everything is walking paths and canals, you won't even find a bicycle.

Now, we had to find my friend from childhood, who happened to be in Venice at the same time on a completely separate and much longer Europe tour. After a bit of walking, we found her at the boat station and met her roommate from Brazil. Then we hopped on the boat for Murano, the island that is known for glass art. The boat was full, so we had to stand, and just as we stepped on, the lightning and rain started. Great. We got off at the first stop that wasn't a cemetery and started exploring. The first thing we found was a public bathroom, yay! Except, you have to pay to use it. 1 Euro 50 just to pee in a dang toilet and wash your hands afterward. We skipped it for now and went into a glass museum and gift shop. Here we found a really cool black and gold glass gondola that said "Venezia" on the side, which we decided to get. We kept walking and looking at glass things, but every demonstration or museum we went up to cost money, and my friend's roommate seemed morally opposed to spending money on anything she didn't get to keep. So we kept walking in the very humid heat.

At one point, the lightning and rain started again, so we went to a covered walkway between two glass gift shops (I'm telling you, there was nothing but glass on this island) and found a very dirty, but totally chill black cat that was hanging out staying out of the rain. He let me pet him, and even meowed at me when I stopped. It was the least scared stranger cat I've ever seen, and he was totally content to hang out between these two glass shops to stay dry.

We continued walking and walking and by this point, both of us were getting worn out, sleepy, dehydrated, hungry, and just all around not happy, so I got a selfie with my childhood friend, 5,500 miles away from our hometown, and parted ways. We paid 1.50 each to go to the damn bathroom, got some terrible bottled water, and got back on the boat to the main land. I should mention that all of these boat rides were included in our public transport pass. It was incredibly easy to use, and definitely worth it to just get a pass and never have to worry about paying. We got back to the bus station and on the bus back to Marghera. It was so hot and humid and we needed food. We decided to just go back to Al Calesse, but there is something odd about Italian restaurants. Everything is later. I mentioned that the supermarkets don't open until 8:30am. Well the restaurants close between lunch and dinner, which I guess isn't unheard of over here, but they don't open for dinner until 6:00pm at the earliest, if it's fancy, 7:30pm.

So here we are at 4:00 and nothing is open, so we just headed back to the hotel to chug some terrible water, eat some Oreos from the super market, which were largely the same, but came in different packaging, and recover and take a nap in the air conditioned hotel room. We were up, ready and at Al Calesse at 6:00pm on the dot and had the whole restaurant to ourselves. We had more delicious food and then headed to the bus to go back to Venezia. After a bit of a walk, we found our destination, the Venice Jazz Club.

This place was so cool. It was just a little hole-in-the-wall business that you wouldn't be able to find if you weren't looking for it. We had our own small table right at the front by the piano. Our tickets included our first drink, so I ordered a Negroni, a traditional Italian cocktail. They serve a simple dinner before the show for anyone who wanted to buy it, but we had just eaten, so I just ordered their tiramisu special, which was absolutely incredible. The show itself was fantastic. The host/pianist/server/possible owner was fantastic. The show was done in English and featured a tribute to Miles Davis. The pianist was out of this world incredible and the rest of the four piece band were fantastic. At the end of the night, I bought a t-shirt and we went back to our hotel. My feet were killing me and had blisters everywhere, but the evening was a treat and we had a great time.

Day 4: I woke up about 8:30, got ready, and went down to breakfast for more good food and delicious cappuccino. Got back up to the room and my love was still asleep, so I decided to lay down for a bit. Well, we woke up around 2:00pm. Jet lag is a real struggle, folks. We got on the bus and headed back to Venezia in, of course, the very humid heat. This time we got on the vaporetto (water bus) to San Marco, home to the famous St. Marks Basilica and Doge's Palace. Well, we looked around the square for a bit and decided we were very hungry, so we found a great pizzeria and had some more delicious food.

A side note about the restaurants here: customer service is very different. You are seated and given menus, the server comes back to take your order, and then your food comes out, when it's ready, regardless of anyone else at your table. Once you have your food, it is likely that you won't see the server again; you'll probably have to flag them down if you want dessert. In most places, you go up to the counter to pay, having never seen how much you owe, because, again, the server does not come to your table after they have brought food to you. To be honest, I absolutely love everything about this. No one is artificially nice, no one is asking how everything is when you've just shoved a bite of food in your mouth, no one is hounding you to order dessert. If you want something, you ask for it. If not, you are free to eat your meal in peace. It's amazing. The worst part about Venice restaurants is that, even though they all have air conditioning, they leave all the doors and windows open to let in all the heat, bugs, and pigeons. People. Close the windows. I promise it's a more pleasant experience.

Anyway, when we finished at that restaurant, we headed back to the square, which was now completely overrun with pigeons. I stood at the edge of a raised platform where the pigeons were gathered for a moment when a man came up to me and grabbed my arm, turning my hand palm up, and putting some rice in it. Suddenly my entire arm was covered in pigeons. We got a picture and then, and only then, did this man ask for money. I gave him 5 Euros to appease him, but it really rubbed me the wrong way (I believe this behavior is illegal in America). He forced a service on me and then demanded payment. Not cool, even if we did get a couple good pictures.

At this point, we discovered that St. Marks is only open for a very narrow window on Sundays and we had missed it. So instead, we went around to a couple of gift shops to get souvenirs for home, and then stopped for some delicious gelato. We also found a place that sold a small container of Espresso Merlot, which I had to have, and this Aperol Spritz, which we had heard about (I'm looking at you, Canadian friend). So we went back through St. Mark's Square to catch the vaporetto back to the bus station. Side note: there are signs everywhere asking that you respect Venice and please don't litter, but along most of the streets, there are absolutely zero garbage cans, we finally found a garbage can back at the square. However, it was high tide, and the entirety of St. Marks Square was flooded. We waded through the shin-deep water and got a picture of our feet. We posted it with the caption from the recent Spiderman movie: "In Venice, you get your socks wet."

This is a good time to talk about the water in Venice, and to get a bit political again, about something that shouldn't be political at all. If anyone visits Venice and tells you they don't believe in climate change, they are either completely blind, or completely stupid. All over Venice, at any tide level, there are stairways that disappear into the water, down to waterways that used to go alongside the canal, but are now a few feet underwater at low tide. Every water-side building, which is almost everything in Venice, has basement levels that are no longer accessible, slowly drowning because we can't seem to stop killing the planet. When we walked through that square, there was water that went right up to tables in the square. A raised platform with a grand piano and other musicians sat in front of a grand building, these wonderful musicians just playing away to the people sitting at tables with their feet in the water while others wade by. It reminded me of the scene in the movie Titanic, where the musicians just keep playing as everything around them is sinking into the ocean. Everything about Venice was a harsh reminder of how much climate change has done, and what we are on the verge of losing if we don't stop it. St. Mark's Cathedral was first built in the 800s. The water was up to the steps in front of it.

Anyway, we went back to the hotel for the evening and tried out our drinks. The Espresso Merlot was mediocre merlot that barely tasted like it had any espresso, and the Aperol spritz was absolutely disgusting. This stuff is everywhere in Venice and I have no idea why. We both agreed it was terrible. I drank it, of course, but it wasn’t good. So we tried to get a bit of a nap, because we had to start turning our sleep around for our return flight in a couple days. We set the alarms for 7:00am and tried to sleep after waking up at 2:00pm.

Day 5: After not enough sleep, we got up at 7:00, I had my morning cappuccino and breakfast, and we went back upstairs to plan the day. After hanging out for a while and chugging some water to help hydrate for the day, we ventured into the heat. We hopped on the bus to Venezia, determined to see St. Mark's today. When we arrived, the tide was out, which was great, but the line was horrendous. We elected to go for lunch first to see if the line died down.

I wasn't very hungry yet, so I ordered a chicken caesar salad, and lord let me tell you, Italy even does that better than we do. I'm not huge into bacon, but it's mostly because nowhere in America serves it the way I like. We tend to put dark, crispy bacon on anything that we can get away with putting it on, and it crunches and shatters and ruins the texture of everything. This salad had two strips of bacon, cooked lightly, not too greasy, with a wonderful chewy, but not floppy texture. Hands down best bacon I've ever had. This salad also came with fresh slices of parmesan cheese on it. Those were just the trimmings. The salad was fabulous and fresh and the chicken was tender and tasty. If I could go back to Italy, I would do so just for the food. Everything was somehow more delicious than it is here, but you could also tell it was way better for you. The food wasn't full of gross preservatives or any of the other crap we put in our food. It was all delicious.

After lunch, I realized that I hadn't done any wine-tasting yet, so we found a wine bar. This place was very interesting. I told the server I was interested in wine tasting and she brought me to a tall and wide round table with a machine on it. This machine held each bottle of wine and produced different sized tastes or glasses from a spout in front of the bottle. They didn't offer a flight, but you could get a taste, a glass, or a larger amount (third of a liter maybe?) for different prices, and of course, the bottle if you want. Different wines were priced at different levels for everything. The first one I tasted was from one of the oldest wine families in Tuscany. The taste alone was 3.50. The bottle? 75 Euros. The second wine I tasted was very good, but couldn't hold a candle to the first. I bought a 75 Euro bottle of wine, and I do not regret it at all. I'm looking forward to drinking it.

After this, we headed back out to St. Mark's, which still had a line, but it had died down a bit. We eventually reached the front and received our audio tour devices that we had paid for with our city pass. When we were about to enter, I was told that I needed to pull up my sleeves to cover my shoulders (I was wearing a cold shoulder dress). Apparently shoulders make Jesus cry in catholic or something. At least the guy was nice about it and didn't make me buy a "modesty shawl" for 2 Euros.

Inside the Basilica was incredible. It was so much quieter and darker than outside, but was lighted enough to see all of the incredibly detailed art. The domes of the basilica were humongous and every millimeter of them was covered in intricate gold and vivid colored paintings. There were statues of all of the apostles plus other biblical figures above the alter. Over the seating area, there was a huge 3D red glass cross candle chandelier. It wasn't lit, but you could see how incredible it would look if it was. The history of this place was fascinating. It was originally built in the 800s, which is mind-boggling. We stood inside this incredibly complex architectural structure with decades, if not centuries of art that is over four times as old as our country. We headed back out into the square and hopped the vaporetto.

It was at this point where the heat and humidity really started to get to me and I wasn't feeling very well. I'm almost positive I had some sort of heat exhaustion. So we went back to our hotel since it seemed to be the only place we could reliably find air conditioning. After chugging some more terrible water and laying on the bed for about an hour in the A/C, I felt so much better, and we headed back out for our evening activity.

After switching from bus to vaporetto, we realized that we were heading in the right direction, but the route we were on did not actually stop at the place we needed to go. So we got off as close as we could and pretty much power walked to our destination. We made it in time for the most iconic part of Venice, our gondola serenade.

We were on boats of 6 people, so there were 4 more people on our boat, plus our gondolier. Our six boats traveled together with one of the gondolas having a singer and accordion player who sang to us the whole way. We got to see some of the smaller canals instead of just the grand canal that the vaporetti and water taxis take all the time. I recognized two of the songs that were sung: Santa Lucia, and the finale and quintessential gondola song, O Sole Mio. I cried because the experience was so iconic. At the end of the ride, we headed back to the hotel for the night with the plan of getting up even earlier the next day, and we set our alarms for 5:00am.

Day 6: There were two more iconic things we hadn't done yet, so we got on the bus early. This is a good time to mention the ups and downs of the public transit and general attitudes in Italy. The busses and vaporetti were very convenient, ran regularly, and were incredibly easy to use and navigate. The downside is that literally everyone uses them and you hardly ever get to sit down on any of them, often being crammed way too close to strangers and sweating all over each other because, while they do have air conditioning, it is not adequate for that many people. Another note about group behavior in Italy, no one makes any attempt to get out of the way of anyone. Italians, particularly Italian men, will just plain walk at you and if they run into you, so be it. They will cross two inches in front of you without thinking anything of it, and don't really have personal bubbles. On top of that, lines are not much of a thing. They’re more like clumps. Patiently waiting in line for the vaporetto? Someone will push right past you and stand next to the person at the front of the line. This was true everywhere, even at the airport. Very strange.

Anyway, the first thing we did that day was go to the famous Rialto Bridge. 7:00am is the absolute perfect time of day to do this. We had been passing under this bridge on vaporetti all week and it was always packed full of people. Early in the morning, we were able to walk right up to the top, see the great view, get a couple pictures, and head back down. At the base of the bridge, we found a café that had pizza, so we stopped, had some diavola, tiramisu, and a fantastic latte macchiato. We bought some bottled water to go and hopped back on the vaporetto to St. Mark's Square one more time. We had to see Doge's Palace.

Since the Basilica doesn't open until 9:45am, the square was pretty calm and the line for the palace was almost nonexistent. We got through security easily and wandered into a giant courtyard, again full of incredible intricate sculptures and paintings at every turn. We went through some museum exhibits and found the only bathroom in the whole city that's just plain free. There was a huge, ornate working clock that towered over the square alongside many sculptures. The most high-class gondola we had ever seen was on display. It reminded us of carriages for royalty that you would see in movies, but in a gondola form instead of a horse-drawn vehicle. It clearly must have been for the Doge himself.

We grabbed a couple more souvenirs and mint slushies and headed back to the main bus terminal area. I had to get a couple more bottles of wine, so we found a little café/wine shop and bought a couple of fairly cheap bottles without tasting. I have now broken into the chianti I bought, and it is extremely good for the price. We headed back to the hotel and waited for the gelateria around the corner to open at 3:30 so I could get an affogato, which was exquisite. When we got back to the hotel this time, we paid our hotel bill (the city tax was not included in Expedia) since we were going to be leaving very early in the morning to catch a 6:00am flight.

We got everything packed up and planned to go back to Al Calesse one more time, but discovered that it was completely closed on Tuesdays. We instead went around the corner to a different pizzeria, but decided to order the food for takeout since this place had no air conditioning at all. We went to bed as early as we could stand, knowing we'd have to get up at an absurd hour.

Day 7: The one thing I didn't really like about the hotel besides having a hard bed (I never like hotel beds, it wasn't that bad) was that there was no clock in the room at all. We only had one plug adapter, so our phones were on the other side of the bed. Because of this, the only time indicator I had when I woke up on any given day was whether or not the sun was up, and since the alarm was set for 3:00am, that was not a good indicator of whether or not I needed to be awake. So I got up and went to the bathroom at 1:23am and couldn’t get back to sleep.

It didn't take long for both of us to be up and about after that, so we just got ready and I called the taxi company, which was honestly probably the scariest thing I did in Italy. The company had an automated menu that was completely in Italian and I couldn't keep up with it. Eventually it brought me to a real person and I hopefully asked, "parli Inglese?" to which she responded, "yes." I asked for the taxi, was put back on hold to an automated message, and then was brought back to the person, who said "five minutes." We hurried and went downstairs to turn in the key.

Once outside for approximately 15 seconds, the taxi pulled up and the driver confirmed, in English, that we were going to the airport while helping us with our suitcases. He drove us straight there with no problems. We checked in to the kiosk and then waited (in a clump, not a line) to check our bags. We were worried at first because there were no staff members anywhere, but that's because there were no  mid-night flights from this airport. The earliest departure was 5:50am, so the staff members didn't get there until about 4:30am.

Once through security, I found a café and got a double cappuccino and a croissant for breakfast while we waited for the reader-boards to tell us what gate our flight was leaving from (it wasn't on the boarding passes). We got to our gate and were taken out to a bus that would take us to the tarmac. We boarded from the rear of the plane and found our seats. For this Air France flight, I had paid extra to select our seats to be in the only row that had two seats instead of three. This is not where our seats were. We were next to a stranger on a flight, again, the very thing I had tried my best to avoid the whole time, and it just didn't want to work out for us.

The flight went fairly smoothly except the people speaking the English translations in French accents were too quiet and difficult to understand, so we basically had no idea what was going on. Also, our row got skipped for beverage service, so we were sitting there eating croissants with no liquid.

We got into Paris and had to go through customs. It was just as easy as Italy, only they made us go one at a time, which was slightly scary, but only for a brief moment. We found our gate after going through a huge fancy terminal. Everything was white, fancy, and expensive. Cartier, Prada, Coco Chanel, there was even a caviar bar in the middle of the promenade. I did, however, see one very familiar green logo that I couldn't pass up. I got my frappuccino from Starbucks and ate a sandwich while we waited near our gate.

When they started boarding, we started seeing the harsh realities of America rear their ugly heads. Before entering the line, we were stopped by security and asked questions such as, "Does everything in your bags belong to you? Did anyone approach you and ask you to bring anything on the plane for them? Have you seen anything suspicious?" etc. Once through that, we were led to an automated gate. You scan your boarding pass and it either turns green and lets you through, or it turns red and you go to the side for additional screening. We got through just fine. Every single person who was turned away for additional screening was some shade of brown. I was sad and disgusted with my white privilege in America, and I hadn't even left Europe yet.

We were boarded in our seats on the side of the plane with no one next to us for the longest flight of our trip. Everything seemed to be going fine, but then I tried to buckle my seat belt. Now, I am a plus-size woman, but I am literally one size larger than the average American woman. This was a Boeing 767-300 plane, made right in my home state of Washington, and this seat belt was not long enough for me to buckle it. I've never had to ask for a seat belt extender in my life, but I had to ask the nice flight attendant to get me one. She got distracted with a group of four kids and one mother who were not seated all together, and that was not going to work for the ages of these kids. So she forgot about my extender until I reminded her.

This was an 11-hour flight from Paris to Seattle, so it was the one flight on our trip for which we were planning to purchase the in-flight wi-fi from Delta, but once we were off the ground, it was announced that it would not be available on this flight. Ugh. So we tried to get a nap, but it just didn't work. That group of four kids were quite well-behaved, but 11 hours is a really long flight for four kids under 10, and they just got a little loud sometimes. It wasn't their fault and the mom did a great job of trying to keep them quiet, it was just tough, and I couldn't complain about my circumstances. This group of four kids and a mother were black as night and clearly Muslim, and they were traveling from a foreign country to the US during a time when ICE is stripping children from their mothers left and right. We've been back for two weeks and I still hope and pray they made it through customs as a family.

Speaking of customs, American customs absolutely suck. First they separate you into two giant lines, American and Canadian citizens in one line, and everyone else in the other. We were told it could be up to an hour to get through customs, and we had people who were trying to make connections that were told they had to wait. We finally got to the front of the citizen line and went to a kiosk that scanned our passports, asked a bunch of questions, and took pictures of our faces that were then printed out on receipts. We then had to take these receipts and our passports to a physical person, who asked us all of the same questions while stamping our receipts. Then we were let free into baggage claim, which was remarkably fast (thank you SeaTac). To leave the baggage claim area, we had to show our stamped receipts to yet another person before we could exit into the underground train that took us to the terminal.

Once out of that mess, we went straight to ground transportation. Within a couple minutes, a Jiffy Parking shuttle was there to take us to our car. It was simple and easy. We inserted the dash ticket into a machine and paid the amount for the time the car was there. We then headed to the Jack in the Box across the street where we got milkshakes and Dasani bottled water which we drank in an enclosed, air conditioned room and each of us used the free bathroom. We drove back, picked up the cat from my parents' house, and headed home. We managed to stay up until 8:30 that night, which amounted to about a 28 hour day for both of us if you don't count the couple minutes of dozing on the plane.

Overall: Venice is a beautiful, enchanting place full of history and incredible experiences. If you get a chance to go, you should go and take it all in while it's still above water. However, don't go in the middle of summer when it's crowded as hell and too hot and humid to breathe. Also, don't ever fly Delta. Ever. I guess I can be glad that I didn't find poop in my blanket. If you don't get that joke, go watch the Nicole Byer episode of Comedians of the World on Netflix. Shoutout to the unsung hero of our vacation, Jiffy Parking. If you need airport parking at SeaTac, they are fantastic. While I'm happy to be back in the land of free bathrooms and drinkable bottled water, I have to say this whole trip made me really not proud to be American. We need to do better, everyone. There are plenty of places in the world that are managing not to shoot each other, tear families apart, deny climate change, shove endless crap into their food, and bankrupt people who need medical care. We can do  better, and we have a responsibility to make sure we do. Buona Notte, Amici.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

My Survivor Story

CW: Rape, Sexual assault, emotional abuse

When I was in college, I had a sexual relationship with someone. It was not at all a healthy relationship. It was built on drunken nights at parties, emotional abuse, and downright stupidity. I was crazy about the guy and all my friends knew it. I was a complete idiot for putting up with him.

Let me start out by saying this: almost every single encounter was consensual. He would start it, every time, and I would go along. If he didn't start it, nothing would happen. Yet the next day, he would always blame me for what happened. Let me reiterate. I. Never. Started it. He would get mad at me for "letting it happen" as if I was in control of his actions somehow. One time he told me if it happened again, he would stop talking to me. So the next time we were drunk and he started it, I said no. I pushed him away and told him to stop. I was tired of him being mad at me, so I told him no. I had decided definitively that it wasn't going to happen. I was clear, verbally and physically, that I wasn't going to "let it happen" again. It wasn't until I was on the floor, tears in my eyes, with his hand over my mouth that I realized I never actually had any control. I wasn't allowed to say no. I couldn't stop him. I'll never forget how numb and powerless that made me feel.

I confronted him about it in a text message the next day, because of course, he was mad at me. I told him what happened and he basically told me I was delusional and that he would never do that. I was insistent that it happened. He said I was making it up. What's worse? My friends all knew that I was crazy about him and that he wasn't interested in dating me. I never told my friends because I was sure they'd never believe that I was raped by the man I was head over heels for. The man who "didn't like me in that way."

For a long time his denial and my refusal to say anything soaked into my brain and I actually started to believe it was all in my head. It wasn't until I met someone else who actually treated me like a person that I began to regain some self worth and dignity. A few years into my happy marriage, I finally told my wife about it. She believed me. She's the only person I've told. Until now. The current events in our country have inspired me to share my story. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I wasn't ready.

Please don't see me differently. Please don't give me your pity. I am stronger for what I have been through and I am happy with my life as it is today. Some of you will read this and know who I'm talking about. If you want to unfriend him, that is your choice, but I won't hold it against you if you don't. Please don't tell him I made this public. I've blocked him on Facebook and don't want to hear from him again. I'm sure he would only slander me if he knew I told anyone. I want to move on peacefully.

That's my survivor story. I feel it is extremely important to believe victims of sexual assault. It's a very scary thing to come forward about. It isn't something that we make up. It's far more common than most people realize. One thing is for sure. I do NOT want someone who thinks this kind of behavior is okay in the highest court in our nation. I believe Dr. Ford. Because if it were my abuser on that stand, and me on the other side, I know she would believe me.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

Should We Arm Teachers?

As the debate rages on after the Florida shooting, I'd like to address the idea that "teachers should be armed." I am going to tell you a story that actually happened in my own classroom as a former teacher.

There was this kid I had in advisory class. He was one of those kids you just couldn't reach. He'd interrupt, yell profanities, get up and try to leave, not leave when he was supposed to, get into fights in the hall, etc. There was no working with this kid. He was terrible. He was a menace. His parents were no help. The administrators were tired of dealing with his crap. All you could do was hope and pray he wasn't in class that day.

One day, advisory class had started. It was quiet. This kid was nowhere to be found. Attendance had been taken, and the students had begun their first task of the class. All of a sudden, this kid bursts into the room screaming profanities at the top of his lungs and immediately throws a large rock at a group of three girls, narrowly missing two of their heads. I don't think I've ever moved so quickly as an adult in my life. I placed myself between him and the rest of the students and physically pushed him out of the room to lock the door. I was incredibly lucky that I'm a large, strong woman and he was a scrawny 7th grader. As I was on the phone to the administrator in charge of discipline, after checking with the girls to make sure they were not hurt, a rock hit the other door to my classroom (the one that was always locked from the outside). The whole class jumped and was visibly upset by the incident. He could have hurt them badly. Luckily, all he had was a rock.

I strongly believe, with everything in my heart, mind, and soul, that if teachers had been armed with guns in this incident, there would have been AT LEAST two dead 7th graders in my classroom, and a dozen others with PTSD. This kid wasn't just terrible, he was resourceful. He found ways to get the jump on teachers and students, even when we were hyper aware of the danger he posed. He absolutely would have gotten a gun from another teacher. I don't care how careful they are. They're trying to teach 30 middle school students, over half of which don't know where their next meal is coming from. He WOULD have gotten one of those guns. I wasn't fast enough to stop a rock. I damn sure wouldn't have been fast enough to stop a bullet. He would have shot at least one of those girls dead before I would have had the time to pull the gun and put him down.

That would have been the best scenario. But as I said, this kid was resourceful. If teachers had guns, he would have known I was the only one in the room that would be a danger to him. I'd have been dead before I realized he was at school that day. Who knows how many more would have died after that?

More guns create more opportunities for people with bad intentions to get them. It is statistically far more likely that a gun will harm someone you care about than someone trying to hurt them. The solution is NEVER going to be more guns.

That incident was the day I decided I was never going to teach again. Had there been a gun available, it would have been decided for me.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

The Stay-at-Home Spouse

It wasn't all that long ago that wives were expected to stay home, take care of the house, and raise the kids while husbands made all of the money. Times were good enough, economically, that this didn't put a strain on most households as far as income (though the forced adoption of typical gender roles and heteronormativity are another story for another time). Now I have several female friends who are currently stay-at-home wives, often taking care of children, and all fortunate enough to have a husband that makes enough money for them not to have to work. There is nothing wrong with this as long as both parties in the relationship are on board with their contributions to the household.

Nowadays, this scenario is not usually feasible, as stagnant wages and rising costs have created a society in which both members of any relationship must work a paying job in order to keep up with living expenses. This is late-stage capitalism. No one is seen as "good enough" or "contributing to society" if they are not doing something that creates profit for someone, and therefore getting a measly wage for doing so.

The truth is that our economy produces enough wealth for all of us to thrive, whether we are actively creating that wealth or not. Some of my previously-mentioned female friends get a little bit of flak for their roles, mostly from independent women who believe that the only way to be a feminist is for all women to assume the opposite of typical gender roles, when in reality, true feminism is giving the woman a right to choose her role. Stay at home husbands, however, are far more scrutinized. Years of social conditioning have taught us that a man must make money to contribute to his household. But why? If both parties are okay with the roles they play in taking care of the household, why do men get told that they need to be making money in order to "contribute" to the relationship? Is cleaning, cooking, and taking care of the home not contributing to a relationship? If all needs are met, why is that a problem?

I'm curious to know if those in relationships that are not cis-hetero experience this kind of pressure and if it is different from a male vs. female vs. non-binary perspective. I know many of my friends that fall into this category face economic pressure for both people to work, but I'm talking specifically about social pressure to be in the work force vs. a stay-at-home contributor.

We already have more people than necessary jobs. That number is only going to continue to grow as technology advances. A person is worth more than the wealth they create. Let's treat them like it.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

Okay, Nevermind, I DO Want To Take Your Guns

For years and years I've tried to reason with gun lovers on common sense gun legislation. Every time, I'm met with the "If you take guns away from innocent people" argument and have to carefully and clearly hammer home the point that I do not want to take away guns from responsible gun owners, but merely want to keep them out of the wrong hands. Regulation does not mean revoking rights. I approve of speed limits. Does that mean I want to take your car away? Each time I have this argument, I beg and plead for the other side to find a compromise with us so that we can reduce the number of mass shootings in the US. And yes, gun regulation DOES reduce mass shootings, in every country that has ever done it. The US is very unique in its gun violence problem, and it needs to be addressed. It needed to be addressed a decade ago, but it still hasn't been. So here we are again, in the wake of another mass shooting, and so many people are jumping to defend our current gun laws, saying that there's nothing wrong with our system, and this crap will happen whether or not we make laws to amend them, which is pure and simple bullshit. I'm surprised it took me this long, but I've reached my breaking point. I no longer want to find a compromise with you. You have fought and fought and fought and once again we are mourning the loss of innocent Americans. More Americans have died from gun violence in recent history than in all wars we've ever taken part in. That's disgusting. Our streets should not be more dangerous than a war zone. So here it is. I'm completely done trying to compromise. I want to take every single one of your guns away. No civilian fire arms at all. The only place guns are necessary is in the military. Nowhere else. I'm tired of the needless loss of life. You can hunt with a crossbow if you must. No guns. At all. I'm done. You had your chance to compromise for years. I don't give a crap about an amendment that was written when a gun shot one round every couple minutes. The unalienable rights are as follows: Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The second amendment is directly threatening our first unalienable right, so I'm calling for its abolition. No item is worth more than American lives. If it is, we have lost our humanity entirely.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

I Can't Keep Quiet: A Moral Divide

Political tensions in our country have been reaching an all-time high lately. I've been struggling to remain civil with those on the other side of the spectrum. I wanted to take a moment to collect and present my thoughts in a clear and coherent manner in hopes that at least one more person may truly understand why I fight so vehemently against the current administration.

Every single person deserves America's unalienable rights: Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. To me, nothing is more important than basic human rights for ALL people. I have trouble with our administration because it openly ignores the rights of certain people, based on their race, religion, gender, or sexual orientation.

There's a quote that I think encompasses a lot of the disconnect. "When you're accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression."

An example: All Lives Matter. This began in direct response to the Black Lives Matter movement, arguing that black people should not be singled out, and every life matters. But do they all really matter to you? Black people are literally being killed by police through no wrong-doing. None. They live their life in fear of militarized police. If all lives really mattered, there wouldn't need to be a movement for the outrage of black people being murdered, because you would already be outraged. Why weren't you outraged before people named the movement after black people? If all lives mattered to you, you'd be outraged at the people dying in the streets who can't afford a home because the rich hoard all the money and resources. If all lives mattered, you'd be outraged at the high percentage of trans people who are murdered every day due to irrational hate and fear of the unknown. You'd be outraged at the woman who dies because she can't afford the outrageous co-pay on her prescription medication, that is only there because the company that owns the drug decided to raise the price by 3000 percent, just because they can. You'd be outraged that the woman who had no resources to enable her to leave abuser was killed last night for refusing sex with him. You'd be calling your representatives yelling and screaming because you are so outraged that there are hundreds of thousands of dollars being spent on security for Trump tower, and billions on a border wall, but we "can't afford" to take in starving Syrian children fleeing their decimated homes in a war zone that we helped create. You'd be pushing back at every hateful word spewed by our acting president because you have paid attention enough to know that seeing the leader of the free world endorse such hate empowers people to act on that kind of hate. A gay man was beaten to the point of hospitalization the day after the election IN MY OWN HOMETOWN. Where was your outrage? Where was the protest for him? Were you waiting for a straight person to die? A Christian? A rich, white man? An innocent young girl in modest clothing? At what point do you actually give a shit about the lives that are being lost? So the next time you say "All Lives Matter," ask yourself if you really mean it.

This is why I get so mad. I see terrible things happening to people all across America due to the hateful rhetoric and policies of this administration. Everyone who voted for Trump has their own reasons for doing so, and many of them I can understand. What I can't understand is why you felt that those things outweigh human lives. Real people whose lives are either being lost, threatened, or devastated in some way. Somehow, that's not important enough to you. And I'm at a loss when I try to argue my point with you, because I don't know how to explain to you that you should care about other people. I can throw facts and statistics and personal stories at you until I'm blue in the face, but it doesn't matter if you don't care. I don't know how to find a common ground with someone who thinks that conservatism in policy is more important than my former middle school students being murdered for their faith or skin tone.

I've come to a clear moral divide with those who defend this administration's actions. I have no qualms with your politics. I don't have an issue with polite, civil discussions on the best way to increase employment and lower poverty rates. I lose all ability to converse calmly and respect your opinion when I have a problem with your sense of what is morally right and wrong. When your beliefs negate the struggles of human beings, you are no longer a friend with a difference of opinion, you are someone I cannot respect anymore. I can forgive you for your vote, but only if you actually regret the harm it is causing. If not, I'll see you on the other side of the line when the revolution comes. I will not back down. I will not let the rights of my fellow humans be trampled on. I can't keep quiet.

https://www.icantkeepquiet.org/thesong/

[dirtyrottensocialist]

I'm Not With Her, But My Vote Will Be

It's a Bernie supporter's nightmare. The establishment, the 1%, money in politics, political rigging, working the system, bad judgment, a flip-flopper, all rolled into one candidate. Hillary is not what we fought for. She is not the president our country deserves. She's the embodiment of so many things we can't stand.

Many of us think, "I simply can't vote for her, it goes against everything I believe." We think, "I'm going to vote for Jill Stein or Gary Johnson, they would make much better presidents than Hillary, and if we end up with Trump, it will be the DNC's fault for not going with the better candidate." I understand these sentiments fully and completely. I even considered them. I really like Jill Stein (and no, she is NOT an anti-vaxxer, look up what she really said please). I think she would be a great president, far better than Hillary. I know you want more parties to receive funding. I know you are fed up with the two-party system. We all are.

A third party candidate will not win THIS election. It's mathematically impossible. Not only are they not on the ballot in all states, but they are vastly underfunded and, yes, there are two of them, dividing the vote even more. Thinking you will get enough people in states where they are on the ballot to rally behind one of them and beat Hillary and Trump is completely unrealistic. It's a fairy tale. Like it or not, money rules our politics, and that will not change before November. A vote for Stein or Johnson would be nothing more than a statement that you hate both candidates. Again, I get it, you don't want to be bullied by the two party system. Please hear me out.

Hillary is a deplorable human being. Trump is the next Hitler. This is not an exaggeration in the slightest. Hillary has made some terrible foreign policy decisions. Trump could literally be the last president of the USA. Do you really want your protest vote to put Hitler in power? I know, I know "don't vote for the lesser evil," "you're just doing what she wants," "you're a Hillbot." No. This isn't a game. This isn't some ploy to put Hillary in power. This is real. This is dangerous. Right now, there are laws in place to protect people's right to practice religion, their right to speak their native language, their right to exist and pursue freedom and happiness while not white and male. Yeah, Hillary will make a couple dumb decisions as president, but she got where she is through THIS system of government, and she's not going to destroy that. Trump will. He has quoted and praised the world's most ruthless dictators. His role models are Putin, Mussolini, Hussein, and Kim Jong Un. Once these people get into power, they don't leave, ever.

We have to think of the bigger picture. If it was some other regular establishment Republican instead of Trump, I'd be right there with you. This is far more important than sending a message to the establishment. This is the future of our country. The future of freedom. The literal, in the flesh, lives of our citizens and the citizens of other nations. Trump's fragile ego and bully mentality combined with nuclear codes could spell the end of life on the planet. People always say to vote your conscience. I intend to do just that. I could not live with myself if my protest vote prevents Hillary from getting enough votes to defeat Trump. If you could save millions of lives, would you? He must be stopped.

Please. I understand all your anger towards Hillary, but she's just a politician. I can't stand her, but the country and the world can survive her. That's why I'm not with her, but my vote will be.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

I'm Tired

I'm tired. Not in the sense that I need to sleep, but on a spiritual and emotional level. I'm tired of waking up to tragedies, sure. But mostly I'm tired of hate, ignorance, and injustice, on the societal level, not the major crisis level. I'm tired of being called "sweetheart" and "honey" by middle-aged male strangers. I'm tired of hearing arguments about who shouldn't have the right to pee where they feel safe. I'm tired of reading about Michelle Obama's masculine arms, or Miss USA "not looking American." I'm tired of hearing I should be afraid of an entire religion for 2 out of 998 shootings, but being cautious of men (all 998) is sexist and I shouldn't generalize. I'm tired of the Washington Redskins arguing that tradition and logos are more important than not using a demeaning racial slur against an entire ethnicity of people. I'm tired of our obsession with an individual right interfering with saving thousands of lives. I'm tired of walking in a parking lot with keys between my fingers. I'm tired of my friends being afraid to tell people who they love for fear of physical harm. I'm tired of the slow decay of education and social programs in favor of big business and more killing. I'm tired of how terrible our society treats anyone who wasn't born with the utmost privilege, anyone who is "other." This is the kind of crap that happens every day, without even a thought or a word from many. Then we find a Brock Turner and wonder "how could he think this was okay?" We see an Omar Mateen and think "what happened to foster this?" The answer is every time you tell someone that being trans "isn't natural," every time you don't call out that rape joke for being sick and wrong, every time you don't stand up to the man spitting on the black people in a cafe, every time you tell that girl she should cover up instead of teaching the boy consent, every time you let someone be treated as less than. Yes. I'm tired of terrible people enacting terrible things. But most of all, I'm tired of the neutrality of those who claim to be the good guys. It is long past time. Let's fucking DO something.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

No, I haven’t done that for money, but I CAN: The plight of the millennial worker

3-5 years experience as a....

Everywhere. On all the job postings that pay more than minimum wage. I haven’t even been out of college for 5 years. I don’t have enough experience in the field I want because I DO have bills to pay, and nothing that pays enough to live on requires little to no experience in most professional fields.

Here’s the part that really gets to me. I’ve heard so many (usually middle-aged) people in positions of power at companies complain about how the people they want to hire just aren’t there. They look and look and look and finally find someone with the experience they want, only to find that the reason they were looking for work is because they are crappy at the job they’ve been doing for 3-5 years. Guess what. I COULD DO IT!

No, I haven’t had x amount of experience doing that particular thing in an office setting for money. No, I don’t have direct experience in this very specific field. No, I haven’t used that particular computer database for 3 years. Do you know what I do have? I have the perseverance to have made it through a Bachelor’s program at a very academically rigorous university (graduating cum laude) in 2/3 of the time it is supposed to take. I did it out of necessity to not put myself further in debt. I have grown up using computers for EVERYTHING, which means that new computer program that the 50-year-old is complaining about because they can’t figure out how to log in will be cake to me. I have had it pounded into me that the only thing that matters is results (test scores), so you can bet that you’ll get them from me. I had to work random jobs every summer through college just to stay afloat, so I have a wide variety of skills that are applicable to any job. I grew up in the “accept everybody for who they are” era, so you know you won’t get any HR complaints about me. Technology has made my timeline instantaneous, so my ability to adapt to new situations and learn on the fly is impeccable. I can find information on that subject and fact-check the sources in the time it would take for your older employee to dig out their library card.

While you’re sitting around waiting for that person with the desirable number of years of experience to show up, you could have trained a millennial to do it and had them finish their first project. I know it’s difficult to tell from a skeleton resume and a few “what would you do in this situation?” questions, but we can do the job! Show us the system. Introduce us to someone who can answer our questions. We are eager to prove that our work is worth the pay. We have student loans to pay off. We’re tired of eating top ramen. We want to buy a house someday. Let. Us. Work.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

Why Should You Get $15 an Hour?

The fight for a $15 minimum wage has been sweeping the nation. California just approved the raise. Naturally this has prompted countless memes of firefighters, military personnel, police officers, EMTs, etc. asking the question “Do these people deserve to make less or the same as a McDonald’s worker?” I am going to make this as clear as possible. This question is completely irrelevant to the minimum wage argument. I will say it again. Whether or not firefighters should make more than McDonald’s workers DOESN’T MATTER to the minimum wage debate!

Let me explain. The minimum wage was established in order to make sure that companies don’t take advantage of their workers. It is meant to make sure that even the lowest wage job in the country can pay the bills of a modest lifestyle. It was founded under the idea that a full time job (which currently in the US constitutes a 40-hour work week) should pay enough to live on, no matter what that job is. It’s pretty simple. 40 hours of someone’s time each week, no matter what service they are performing, should be worth AT LEAST enough to live on.

This still seems to escape some people who claim that minimum wage jobs are not meant to pay adult bills. The fact is that the average age of a minimum wage worker is in the mid 30s. The part that I find most hypocritical is that these same people who say we can’t raise the minimum wage also absolutely hate welfare. You cannot have it both ways. The majority of welfare recipients are WORKING people who do not make enough money to pay basic bills.

Now I know what you’re going to say, “If they want to have a job that pays the bills, they need to just get an education.” Well let me tell you something. I have a bachelors degree. I graduated cum laude from a very academically rigorous private university. I work 56 hours a week and qualify for Medicaid. I could qualify for food stamps if I wanted to, but I don’t want to take what I don’t need, so I stretch that home-cooked pizza an extra day, have nothing but top ramen for a few days, and buy off brand everything. I live in a one bedroom apartment. I only have 2 mouths including my own to feed and I find myself praying for good tips at the end of each month so I can pay my rent on the first.

The fact of the matter is that even if every single US worker had a college education, someone would still need to make your McDonald’s fries. You cannot demand a service and simultaneously devalue those who provide said service. A full time job should not be a poverty sentence, no matter how much more you value other occupations. Should police officers make more than fast food workers? I think most of us would agree that they should. But that has nothing to do with the minimum wage. At the end of the day, both workers need to pay the bills. Taking away the fast food worker’s rent will not give the military guy a nicer TV. Fight the right battles.

[dirtyrottensocialist]

How can I be a better ally?

Sometimes I struggle with how to best be an ally to others in areas where I am privileged. I want to do everything I can to remove the obstacles that cause these privileges without venturing into the world of being the “Hey, look at me, I’m awesome for not being an asshole!” ally. I don’t want to take away from the issues or the people facing the issues.

I do my best to learn about ways in which I am privileged and bring attention to those inequalities, even fight for rights of others. However, sometimes I see an article or video shared, for instance, by a black person from a black perspective about a problem with white privilege and everything about it is so genuine and perfectly stated from the point of view of the oppressed. I agree with it and I love it and I want other white people to know this perspective and try to understand where this person is coming from, but I feel like it’s not my place to share it, because it feels artificial coming from me, because I don’t know what it’s like, and I could never know, and I don’t want to overstep.

This same kind of thing happens with every area in which I am privileged. I am happy to argue ‘til I’m blue in the face against laws that discriminate against transgender people, but when I try to represent their perspective, I get cautious, and feel like I can’t really speak about what it feels like to identify as something other than what my body tells me I am. My period has never caused me to suffer from gender dysphoria. I don’t know what it’s like to be unprivileged in that way.

It’s difficult to find the line, because some people get genuinely upset at people who identify as allies, simply because we don’t know what it’s like. While I do take a small amount of pride in being an ally, I don’t expect anything from it. I don’t deserve anything for being an ally. The unprivileged people are the ones who deserve something they are not getting, and that’s what being an ally is about.

I would welcome any constructive commentary and discussion, particularly from those who live these inequalities. Where is the line between helpful and self-righteous? At what point does being on your side become stepping on your toes? How do you feel about people who are privileged championing equality for you?